


Of lonely Nights and empty Glasses

by Unicorn (Jensee)



Series: Tumblr Mini-fics [3]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Fluff and Angst, Juno Steel Needs a Hug, Juno Steel needs to be protected, M/M, Other, actually maybe Peter does too, including from himself, very sad lady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:44:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jensee/pseuds/Unicorn
Summary: Sometimes at night, Juno's mind gets the better of him. Peter does his best to pick up the pieces.





	Of lonely Nights and empty Glasses

It’s only Juno’s inhebriation that desinhibit him enough to ask, one night:

“What do you even like about me?”

He’s saying it softly, almost hoping Peter won’t hear him from where he’s perched on his window, halfway in Juno’s flat.

Sober, Juno would rose indignantly and sputter, ask explanations and wonder about how Peter has managed to get up so high. The sheer height would give him a slight nausea, and he would look suspiciously for any kind of trick, of outside help from a dark agency ready to eviscerate unsuspecting PIs.

Drunk, Juno has to admit he’s relativly unsurprised that Peter can basically apparate anywhere with no warning, and he doesn’t care enough for it to override his desire to be engulfed in the warm embrace of the man he loves.  
The nausea accompagning the idea of height is the same, though, and he’s already close enough to vomiting it would really be better if he didn’t think too much about it.

“Why are you asking that? You know I love everything about you, Juno.”

Peter had come down from the ledge of Juno’s window and embraced him from behind, over his desk chair. Juno melted into it and it took all of his self-control not to actually nuzzle Peter’s arm where it was rested next to his cheek.

His words settled like a warm bird inside Juno’s chest, but his arms and his legs stayed cold and freezing as the alcohol untied his tongue.

“But _why_? I don’t get it.”

Even he could hear the whine coming from his mouth. Tears prickled his eyes, but he squached them down ruthlessly.  
He wouldn’t cry. Juno Steel did not cry. Or at least, he hadn’t, not for a long time.  
Sometimes it felt like he wouldn’t ever be able to stop if he let himself shed a tear. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t give the world the satisfaction of seeing how much it had fucked him over.

“Surely you know that’s selling yourself short, Juno.”

Peter took his hand, gently untangling it from the glass of vodka it was still gripping, and led him up. Juno struggled to follow his lead, gripping his hand like a lifeline, but after a few steps that had felt like the crossing of the martian desert, they reached the bed and Juno sat gratefully.

“I love you because I think you’re wonderful.” Said Peter, softly, placing a warm kiss on Juno’s forehead. “Want to try to get undressed for me? I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Peter was gone before Juno could formulate his protest. He clumsily tried to take his shirt off. He even managed to get all his buttons unbutonned, but before he could figure out how to actually take it off, Peter came back, a glass in his hand. Juno felt relief wash over him, realizing only just now he hadn’t really expected to see Peter reappear.

“Here.”

Juno needed a little help gripping the glass, but mostly managed to chuck it without supervision.

“I love you because you’re stubborn.” Peter said, putting a hand in Juno’s hair to massage his scalp gently. “But you’re also just in a way that you doesn’t let it get in the way of what you think is right.”

Something seems off to Juno, and sober, he would protest that this isn’t true, that he doesn’t deserve that praise. Drunk, he raises a hand to Peter’s, to silently ask him to stay here, to keep touching him.

Peter takes his hand back, but he places a quick kiss to Juno’s cheek, then his hand, so the worn out PI doesn’t feel like too much protesting is in order. He kneels before Juno and gently take his shoes off.

“Wanna have sex?” he mumbles, when Peter begins unfastening his pants.

Peter pauses, without looking at him, and Juno can feel a tension in him he can’t really place.

He’s about to apologize when Peter takes his hand and squeezes it.

“Right now, I just want you to rest, okay?” He pauses a second, before adding: “we can have sex later, if you want to.”

Juno nods. Or rather he tries, but the mouvement makes him feel dizzy, so he just let himself be gently pushed down the bed, and Peter uses it to finnish getting his pants off.

The thief nudges him so that he can put the comforter over him.

“Don’t leave…” The words tumble from Juno’s mouth.

Peter hesitates, but finally sits on the edge of the bed.

“I won’t.”

Juno still catches one of his hands, to make sure he keeps his word.

“You smell good.”

Somewhere in his brain, Juno realizes he has lost all control on his brain to mouth filter.

“I missed it.”

Peter turns so that he is facing him, and when he does, Juno notices he has somehow managed to get rid of his shoes.

“And I missed you.”

The thief traces his throat lightly with the tip of a finger, and it feels pleasurable instead of threathening.

“I missed your voice. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

Juno’s eyes close under the carress.

“Good thing, with how much I run my mouth.”

Peter laughed, softly.

“You do, don’t you? I like it.”

Juno could feel sleep slowly gaining ground, pulling him under, but he was fighting it to stay at Peter’s side.

After all, who knew how much he’d have with him this time? Who knew if Peter would even be there in the morning, and not gone. Like a thief.  
Like Juno.

“Maybe I should let you…”

“Don’t leave!”

Juno’s grip on Peter tightened to keep the man from getting away.

“Just stay here… with me… please?”

It felt like an exact reverse of the egg aftermath, and even drunk out of his mind, Juno still felt as if he had just sliced himself open for Peter to look at him underneath all of the persona. To let him gaze directly into the raw being of Juno Steel.

“Okay.”

Peter’s voice is soft and Juno feels like he’s melting, blending in with the world around him, being dissolved in a feeling, a world whose landscape is Peter Nureyev’s voice and smell, and softness and kind words.

There is a rustle of clothes, and the bed dips slightly, and then the angle of the hand still in his changes and a warm weight settles itself next to him.

And, well, Juno isn’t really a cuddler. As far as he can tell, neither is Peter. But even inhebriated, he is quick to burrow his head in Peter’s chest and inhale deeply.

His hands seem to be working alone as they grip the man’s soft cotton shirt and he has a full body shiver when one arm is drapped around him.

“I missed you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Peter says nothing, just exhales a long breath (relieved or aggravated or worried or maybe something else, Juno can’t tell) and tighten his hold on Juno.

“Go to sleep.” He finally says, when Juno’s grip on him has not loosened one bit after several minutes.

After a few unsucceful seconds, he adds:

“I’ll still be there when you wake up.”

 

And when Juno does the next morning, feeling like death, and still shaken from a nightmare, he is.


End file.
